If
by Todash
Summary: A wartime friendship continues after Korea, grows deeper, and ultimately evolves into something much more. Eventual slash (I don't consider that a spoiler; Hawkeye/B.J. slash is my stock in trade). Updated with Chapters 22, 23 and 24. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**If**

_Author's Note:_ The title (apart from being a great word in general) is also the title of the Rudyard Kipling poem that Hawkeye misquotes when he first meets B.J. Hunnicutt at Kimpo. Despite the fact that Hawk (intentionally) mangles the line, B.J. instantly identifies it. That amazing connection is the hallmark of their relationship, and it took them all of two seconds to discover it.

* * *

_May 1956_

Hawkeye didn't so much wake up as drift slowly toward a gray and painful awareness.

Even before he opened his eyes—they didn't want to cooperate anyway—he reached up and put a hand to the side of his head, as if that would stop the thump-thumping. He groaned.

Lying there in bed, he took sad inventory: nauseous stomach, severe headache, sour mouth. Bad hangover… as if there were any such thing as a good hangover. He had no idea what time it was, and suddenly he was sickeningly sure he had failed to set his alarm clock the night before, seeing as he'd obviously been falling-down drunk.

No choice now, he _had_ to open his eyes, to find out just how late he was for work. He blinked quickly, once, twice, until finally he could force both eyes open a slit to focus on the clock. Almost 9:30. He groaned again, and wondered if his dad had phoned and he'd been so deeply unconscious that the ringing had failed to wake him.

Hawkeye rolled out of bed with great effort and stumbled down the hallway to his bathroom. Before doing anything else, he dug into the medicine cabinet, fished out the aspirin bottle, and dry-swallowed two. As an afterthought, he ran the faucet and scooped some water into his mouth with his hand.

Looking into the mirror over the sink elicited the third groan of the day. He looked just as bad as he felt, and that was really saying something. His eyes were bloodshot and his complexion pale. He absently splashed water on his face, trying to wake up. How many patients were stacked up in the practice's waiting room right now, with his dad the only doctor responsible enough to show up for work?

Hawkeye sighed and started up the shower, hurriedly undressing as he mentally rehearsed his apology to his father. _Sorry, Dad, I know I left you in the lurch this morning. It won't happen again. _

But that wasn't going to fly, because both he and his dad knew Hawkeye couldn't make a promise like that. This was not the first time in recent weeks that this had happened, and it probably wasn't realistic to think it would be the last.

Standing under the spray of the shower, he berated himself for his immaturity. _You're 36, start acting like an adult, dammit!_

The shower finally got his motor in gear. He dressed, ate a bowl of cereal, and got out the door in record time. The practice was only a couple of blocks away from his new apartment, and it was shortly after 10 when he stepped into the reception area.

Three patients waiting. Sheila, the receptionist, looked up from her paperwork. Never one to keep an opinion to herself, she said, "It's not my place to tell you what to do, Dr. Pierce, but you really ought to consider shaving on a daily basis. You look… well, rather like a derelict."

The last concern on Hawkeye's mind was his day-old stubble. "Is my dad pissed? That I'm late?"

Sheila's lips were a thin line. "What do you think?"

At that moment, the elder Dr. Pierce came out of one of the exam rooms with a middle-aged woman, handing her a prescription and instructing Sheila to schedule a follow-up appointment. He looked at Hawkeye and gestured him into their shared office. Over his shoulder, Daniel said, "Give me a couple minutes before sending in the next patient, Sheila."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel closed the office door and turned to face his son. Hawkeye hated the look in his father's eyes; it was the look of great disappointment.

"Sorry, Dad—"

Daniel didn't let him get any further than that. "Hawkeye, I want you to do me a favor." He paused for a second, shaking his head. "No, forget I phrased it that way. As your boss, I am ordering you to take two weeks off, starting immediately. This is not the first morning you've been too hungover to get your ass into work. I know you're going through a rough patch right now, with the divorce and the upheaval that goes along with it. Having to move. Adjusting to living alone again. The pain of a failed marriage. So I'm saying: take two weeks for yourself, and get yourself back on track. I should have forced you to do this weeks ago. I guess I thought that working would be a welcome distraction for you, but it's clear that you need some down time."

Hawkeye nodded. Even though he didn't think he wanted time off—time was the last thing he wanted more of—he knew his dad was making the right call. Especially for the practice. Hawkeye couldn't keep missing appointments like this, it wasn't fair to his dad or to the good people of Crabapple Cove who were in need of medical care. "Yes, sir," he said contritely. "Two weeks."

"Starting now, son," Daniel repeated, and Hawkeye couldn't bear to look at the dismay on his dad's face any longer. He was the reason for that expression. There was a time when all that mattered to Hawkeye Pierce was having his dad's acceptance and approval. The fact that he was disappointing his pop was almost too much for Hawkeye's already fragile state.

He didn't trust his voice, so he just nodded again and hastily left the office.

By the time Hawkeye walked back into his apartment with a two-week forced vacation staring him in the face, he had already made up his mind how he was going to spend it.


	2. Chapter 2

Two mornings later, when Hawkeye blinked awake, there was a 5-year-old girl staring at him from above. She was leaning in so close that her face filled his entire field of vision. It was as if he were some kind of artifact, she was watching him so intently. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, which did the trick: she giggled and started to jump up and down. "Get up, Hawkeye! Get up, get up!"

Erin Hunnicutt adored her Uncle Hawkeye.

He stretched and swung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge. He held out his arms, "Give us a hug, young miss!" She launched herself into his embrace and he laughed as he held her. "You were asleep last night when I got in. Did you know I was coming?"

She pulled back and nodded, "Yeah, Daddy told me." She was bouncing on her feet a little, excited and happy. "Can we go to the park? Can you push me on the swings? Can we—"

Peg appeared in the doorway of the guest room, giving Hawkeye an apologetic look. "Erin, not today, OK? There will be plenty of time for the park and the swings while Hawkeye is here, but today you and I are going to your grandma's, remember?"

Erin seemed to deflate before their very eyes. Hawkeye said, "Wow, going to see your grandma, huh? That sounds like fun!"

Erin grumbled, "I see her all the time."

Peg stepped into the room and took Erin's hand. "Well, Hawkeye's going to be staying with us for 10 whole days, so you'll have plenty of time to play with him. Today your grandma needs our help, so that's what you and I are going to do."

Hawkeye smiled up at Peg, admiring her firmness. He was not a parent, but he could imagine himself always giving in to the kid's whims, too much of a pushover to be any good at the job. "You go see grandma, Erin. We'll do the park and the swings tomorrow."

She reluctantly nodded and Peg led her away as Hawkeye tried to get oriented in his best friend's guest room. He finally located his suitcase and fished out his toiletries, then made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

When finally he was showered, shaved, dressed and ready for the day, he found B.J. reading the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. Evidently Peg and Erin had left for their day with Peg's mother. He took a seat across the table from his former tentmate, who put the newspaper down and smiled that million-watt Hunnicutt smile. "Good morning, Hawk. What can I get you for breakfast?"

"Don't go to any trouble, Beej. Whatever you've got."

B.J. moved to the stove, saying, "Scrambled?" over his shoulder.

"That sounds good."

"And coffee's still warm in the pot."

Hawkeye helped himself to coffee while B.J. scrambled some eggs for him. "Thanks for letting me come visit, Beej. Really."

B.J. waved a hand. "You are always welcome in this house, Hawk, and don't you ever forget it." He glanced back at his friend over his shoulder. "So your dad kicked you out of the office?"

"He had every right. Three strikes and I was out… too many missed appointments. Too hungover to get my ass outta bed in time."

"What's the drinking about, anyway? I mean, sounds like it's gotten a little out of hand lately."

Yeah, Hawkeye had to admit that it had. Was he drinking out of depression over his divorce? Celebrating his newfound freedom? He had no idea. He leaned back in the kitchen chair, suddenly weary. "I don't know what I want," he said, catching even himself off guard.

B.J. turned off the stove and brought Hawkeye's scrambled eggs over to the table, along with the salt and pepper shakers. "Hawk, you're allowed to feel sad about your marriage breaking up. Hell, I'm surprised your dad isn't more understanding. He's a reasonable guy—he ought to know what an emotional time this is for you."

Hawkeye dug into the scrambled eggs and said around a mouthful, "It was not a good marriage, Beej. I wouldn't say I'm all that broken up about it, to be honest."

Hawkeye's marriage to Kate Greenslade, manager of Crabapple Cove's only bookstore, lasted 11 months. Their courtship had been fast and fiery, culminating in a four-week engagement that had led to a small and simple ceremony in the backyard of the house they'd bought together. The fire of their relationship burned out pretty quickly after that. They hadn't really gotten to know one another before tying the knot, and when reality hit them, it hit hard. The fact that they even made it to 11 months was astounding in retrospect.

B.J. once again sat across the table from him, a concerned look on his face. "A divorce is not something to take lightly. It's a big thing."

"It's an adjustment, yes, but it's not like I was married for a long time."

"But you were in love."

Hawkeye considered that. "I'm not exactly sure it was real love. It was attraction and physical chemistry, but I think it crashed so quickly because that's _all_ it was."

A silence settled in as Hawkeye turned his full attention to his eggs. After a time he became aware that B.J. was staring at him, and he lifted his eyes to his friend's, swallowing slowly. "What?"

"Hawkeye Pierce," B.J. said softly and cautiously, "have you never been in love?"

And _that_… that was an intriguing question. The answer was not something Hawk was willing to examine.

But as he sat there trying to figure out how to reply, B.J. answered for him. "Oh hell, what am I thinking? Of course you were—Carlye Walton."

Actually, Hawkeye supposed that Carlye had _maybe_ been his first love, but that relationship had been another brilliant flash of passion that sputtered out in short order.

He must have been wearing a melancholy expression because B.J. reached out and rubbed his forearm, "Shit, Hawk, I'm sorry. You came out here to get away from your troubles and here I am, depressing the hell out of you."

Hawkeye waved his fork in the air. "It's OK, Beej. I'm doing OK." He clasped B.J.'s hand briefly. "Don't worry about me. And that's an order."

B.J. laughed and started to clear the kitchen table. "Hawkeye Pierce neither gives nor takes orders. You must be some kind of imposter."

_Yeah, that's exactly what I am,_ Hawkeye thought… _Every day of my life, I pretend that I'm a normal person._


	3. Chapter 3

B.J. was off work for the day, so after the two of them washed the breakfast dishes, they headed out onto the front porch. Hawkeye stood at the railing, looking out at B.J.'s suburban paradise—there was an actual white picket fence at the front edge of the lawn—and listening to the birds singing. He felt calm… for the first time in a long time, he felt content.

B.J. was sitting on the top porch step, watching the occasional car go by. After a long moment, Hawkeye moved to take a seat on the second step, directly in front of B.J., and leaned back into B.J.'s chest. Neither spoke as B.J. reached over Hawkeye's shoulder and took hold of his right hand, lacing their fingers together.

Hawkeye closed his eyes as he felt the steady rise and fall of B.J.'s breathing. _Content _was absolutely the right word.

B.J.'s voice was soft from directly above. "So, 10 full days. Is there anything special you want to do?"

_Nah, 10 days of doing exactly this would be fine with me…_

"…because I'll see if I can arrange time off work, Hawk."

"No, Beej, don't go out of your way for me. I'll just hang around and pester you and have fun with Erin. I just needed to get away from home for a little while."

"Well OK, but if you change your mind…"

"Sure Beej, I know."

They fell into another extended silence. A gentle breeze was blowing and the sun was warm on Hawkeye's uplifted face. He loved the security and familiarity of B.J.'s body, and he found himself wondering, if Peg were home, would he and Beej be sitting like this? Probably not.

Who was he kidding? _Definitely _not.

But if B.J. thought it was inappropriate, he wasn't giving any indication. The two of them were close… _beyond_ close, and having the war in their rearview mirror by almost three years wasn't going to change that.

Hawkeye came out to Mill Valley at least a couple times a year; B.J. had been to Crabapple Cove even more often. The rocks that B.J. had used to spell out "goodbye" back in Korea should have actually said "see ya soon," though neither of them had known that at the time. Best-friendship didn't stop just because the war did. So they had an entire country between them, so what. That was why the good Lord and the Wright Brothers had invented flight.

This time, Hawkeye knew he was in California seeing his friend because he'd screwed up back home—he didn't deny it. But sitting here with B.J. had him feeling downright serene. Why was this moment the happiest one he'd had in ages? Why did being in the company of B.J. Hunnicutt seem to magically center him as nothing else could? Hawkeye didn't understand his own life. He wondered if B.J. ever had these same kinds of thoughts.

No, probably not. B.J. was a rock… stalwart and sane. No wonder Hawkeye was leaning on him, literally and figuratively.

* * *

"Push me higher, Hawkeye!" Erin called to him as she soared in the swing. He did as she asked, putting just a bit more strength behind his push, sending her higher. She giggled and sailed back and forth, back and forth.

B.J. was standing off to the side of the swing set, watching them and grinning. He had Waggle on the leash, and when Hawkeye looked at him at times like this, he saw the quintessential family man… wife, kid, dog, house and picket fence. His younger friend was far more grown-up than he was, with responsibilities and a mortgage and mouths to feed, both human and canine. It made Hawkeye feel inadequate.

"I wanna get down now," Erin was saying. "I wanna go on the slide."

Hawkeye caught her swing and brought it to a stop, helping her jump off safely. She looked at her dad questioningly and he nodded yes, she could go on the slide. She scampered ahead of them to the slide and climbed the ladder as they followed at a stroll.

They pretty much had the park to themselves. A couple of guys were playing basketball at the hoops, but otherwise there wasn't much going on. Hawkeye and B.J. walked in step, Waggle sniffing the ground every now and then, taking inventory of dogs who had peed their way around the park before him.

"Peg wants to have another baby," B.J. said then, breaking the silence.

Weirdly, Hawkeye's stomach dropped at that news. No reason why such a statement should mean anything to him, and yet it did. "Do _you _want another kid?"

"I love kids, you know that. We used to always say we wanted two. The problem is I can tell you exactly how it would go. We'd have another and Peg would still accuse me of working too much, of not being around to help enough, of putting all the parental responsibility on her shoulders. It's the same thing she's been saying since I got home from Korea."

Hawkeye had never heard this before. "Wait—what? She doesn't think you help out enough? With Erin?"

B.J. sort of shrugged. Erin had taken her first ride down the slide and she circled back to climb the ladder again. They stood and supervised her, but kept their distance so she wouldn't hear their conversation. "Well, you're here now, so I've cut back on my hours during your visit, but the truth is she's right. I do keep long hours at work, normally. I love my job—I'm not working to spite her or to shirk my family responsibilities, but I think sometimes she sees it that way." He waved the hand not holding Waggle's leash. "It's a conversation that has already gotten old, if you ask me… 'be home more, help me out more.' I don't think having another kid is a good idea—it's not going to help the situation."

"Shit, Beej, I didn't realize there was any trouble at all in Hunnicutt paradise. You never said anything before."

"I don't want to make it sound like a big problem. I don't think it is. Sometimes I look at Erin and I do wish she had a baby brother or sister. It would be good for her." His expression became wistful as he perhaps thought about having a son. Then he shook his head as if to dismiss the whole thing. "Never mind, I'm running off at the mouth, sorry."

Hawkeye wasn't entirely sure what to say, and it took a moment for him to reply. "You have a level head, B.J. Hunnicutt, and I know you'll make the right decision. For yourself and for your family."

"Daddy, daddy! Can I go on the swings again?"

B.J. rolled his eyes. "No, Erin, we have to head home now. You've been on the swings twice, and you've done the slide, and you rode the merry-go-round. That's enough for today."

She came running up to them and looked at Hawkeye, perhaps hoping he'd take her side and overrule Daddy. But Hawkeye shook his head, "I agree, it's time we head back home."

Giving in with a disheartened "OK," Erin grabbed Hawkeye's hand for the walk back home, and his heart swelled. She'd held her daddy's hand coming over here, but now she wanted to hold Hawkeye's. It was such a small gesture, but he found it touching.

_I love your family,_ Hawkeye wanted to tell B.J., but it got caught in his throat. It was the truth and it wasn't the truth… there was a piece of something in that very simple sentence that wanted to come to the surface, but he couldn't articulate it.

He'd had a wife, however briefly, and if they had worked at their relationship, maybe they could have lasted. If they had lasted, they could have had a child or two, and they'd already had the house, and certainly they could have gotten a dog. It was all there for Hawkeye but he hadn't wanted it, or at least not enough to put any effort into it.

Tears came to his eyes and he swiped at them, not wanting B.J. or Erin to see. Perhaps she sensed a change in his mood, because she leaned over and picked a random dandelion from the grass and handed it to him. "Here Hawkeye, this is for you."

And he smiled through his tears, taking the flower-that-was-actually-just-a-weed and saying, "Thank you, Erin. That's very sweet of you."

She beamed back at him and they kept on walking hand-in-hand toward the Hunnicutt home, and this time when the thought came to Hawkeye, it was altered a bit:_ I love your family, and I wish I were part of it._


	4. Chapter 4

Erin climbed up on the couch to sit next to Hawkeye, settling right up against him, as though her name was B.J. "Do you _have_ to go home tomorrow, Hawkeye?"

Vacation time was up. The 10 days had flown by. He did indeed have to go home. "Sorry, honey… yes, I do."

"Are you going to come back sometime?"

"Of course. Don't I always?" He curled an arm around her shoulders. "We see each other a lot, don't we?"

She shrugged. At her age, there was no concept of time and frequency.

"Well, we do. I can't go very long without seeing Erin Hunnicutt, it would turn me into a _monster_." To demonstrate what kind of monster, he growled and stomped his feet a few times and spread his fingers to give the impression of claws. She laughed at his antics. "So don't you worry. I will see you again soon, either here or maybe you'll come with your daddy to visit me in Maine. OK?"

"OK." She swung her legs back and forth, a little kid filled with nervous energy. Hawkeye loved her… he loved everything about her. Impulsively he leaned over and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

"Erin," B.J. said, having suddenly appeared in the doorway, "time for bed. Mommy's there, waiting to tuck you in. You'll see Hawkeye tomorrow before he leaves for the airport, I promise."

"OK, Daddy." She hugged Hawkeye before climbing off the couch, then hugged her daddy on her way to her room. "Night-night!"

B.J. watched her go, then turned his attention back to Hawkeye, who patted the couch next to him. B.J. laughed and said playfully: "Am I gonna get a kiss too?"

"Only if you let me use tongue," Hawkeye cracked.

B.J. ambled over, taking a seat next to his friend and turning serious. "Are you gonna be all right, Hawk? I honestly can't tell. Has anything changed?"

"I think so," Hawkeye said. "My attitude has changed—I'm going to stop being an asshole and wallowing in self-pity, if that's what I was doing. I'm not sure what I was doing. But I can't let my dad down again. I won't."

"Good. Glad to hear it." A brief pause. "But if you need to talk, or if you need to come out here again, call me. I'm always here for you."

"I know, Beej. You're the best friend a guy could ever have." He pulled B.J. into his arms, and what the hell—he did indeed plant a sloppy kiss on B.J.'s cheek. He deserved it.

When he waved goodbye to B.J., Peg and Erin the next day at the airport, the sense of loss he felt was nearly overwhelming. But Crabapple Cove was his home, and he had a life—such as it was—to get back to.

* * *

Two weeks to the day that his father had kicked him out of the office on a forced vacation, Hawkeye was back at their practice, rested and very much ready to work again. He hadn't gotten drunk in the entire two weeks—he'd done very little drinking at B.J.'s house, a beer here, a glass of wine there. Since his return to Crabapple Cove, he hadn't even touched any of the alcohol in his apartment and hadn't been to any bars. He wasn't swearing off booze entirely, he didn't see any need to do that. But he had made up his mind to take a break from it, to show his dad—and himself—that he could be reliable and conscientious.

Time to get his act together.

He stood before Daniel in their office on his first morning back and said, "You were smart, to make me take that time off. It was good for me. I won't let you down again."

His dad must've seen the resolve in his son's expression. "I know you won't, son. I'm sorry if I seemed… harsh. I know things have been tough for you lately."

Hawkeye embraced his dad, clapping him on the back. "You absolutely did the right thing. You need a partner you can depend on, and I was screwing up."

"Welcome back, Hawkeye." Daniel gestured in the direction of the waiting room. "Now let's get Crabapple Cove well, shall we?"


	5. Chapter 5

There were no more missed appointments or ugly hangovers or all-night drinking binges. Hawkeye had figuratively (if not quite literally) sobered up, and as he had vowed, he put his work first. He kept picturing B.J. as his role model, the epitome of the phrase "responsible adult" (his penchant for practical jokes notwithstanding).

In late June, the house that Hawkeye owned with his wife, Kate, was sold. Shortly after, he bought a small Cape Cod a half-mile from the practice, and he happily moved out of his cramped apartment. Step one toward being a mature 36-year-old: stop renting and get settled into a house.

Step two: he adopted a cat from the SPCA. She was sleek, black with a small white patch on her chest, and he named her Aphrodite.

B.J. came out to visit in August, unfortunately without Erin, which (Beej reported) had crushed her little heart. But Peg was stuck in Mill Valley, tending to her ill mother, and she didn't want Erin traveling across the country without her. B.J. went _ooh _and_ aah_ as Hawkeye showed him around his new house with pride. He helped Hawkeye weed the burgeoning garden out front, and the two of them played golf and went to the movies and generally had a wonderful visit.

The next time they saw each other was in early December, when Hawkeye flew out to Mill Valley for a pre-Christmas celebration. Erin loved the stuffed doggy he'd bought for her so much that she carried it around with her _everywhere_, and when they went to their favorite park, she took the toy onto the slide and merry-go-round with her, and pouted when she was not allowed to take it on the swing.

There was still no second Hunnicutt child, and Hawkeye couldn't bring himself to ask what had happened… had B.J. and Peg decided against it, or was the discussion still ongoing? He didn't notice any discord in the marriage, but then again, people didn't typically put their issues on display for others to see.

Back home, Hawkeye resumed dating and bedding women—far fewer now than in his younger years, but he supposed it could still accurately be called a "parade." If a woman started to get serious on him, he would break off the relationship. He was not proud of that, but he was also not going to get hastily married again. His romantic life was the one area in which he still felt stunted, behaving like an immature and stupid kid instead of the adult he was striving to be.

The calendar page turned over to 1957. The winter was as cold and snowy as all Maine winters. The Pierce practice thrived. Aphrodite the cat started to get happily chubby. Hawkeye and B.J. spoke on the phone every week or so, as had been their custom since the Korean War ended, separating them.

Hawkeye built a still in the second bedroom in his house, just for kicks, not because he intended to use it. Looking at his new still reminded him of the Swamp, and in a stroke of inspiration, he called that unused bedroom the Swamp from that point on. He giddily bought an Army cot to put in it, and later got a dartboard for the door. When he told B.J. all of this on the phone one night, they laughed and laughed, and then B.J. said, "Hey, wait a minute, that's _my_ bedroom when I come out and visit you!" and that got them laughing even more.

In early April of '57, Radar called with the news that Mildred Potter had had a heart attack, but was expected to recover. Hawkeye thanked Radar for letting him know, and then immediately dialed Sherman's number in Missouri. The ringing phone kept going unanswered, most likely because Sherman had taken up residence at his wife's bedside in the hospital. When Hawkeye did finally get through, Sherman told him, with great relief in his voice, that Mildred was doing a lot better.

But on July 6th, Mildred had a second, and more severe, heart attack, and her death was instantaneous. Hawkeye, B.J., Radar and Margaret all made the trip to Hannibal, Missouri, to attend the funeral of their former colonel's beloved wife. The old man was grateful that they had come, but he looked and acted just as shattered as Hawkeye would expect from somebody who'd just lost his soul mate.

In August, Daniel Pierce announced to his son that he was going to retire from the practice and from medicine entirely, leaving the family business in Hawkeye's capable hands. Hawkeye had noticed his pop becoming more forgetful over the past year, especially with patients' names and maladies, so hearing this news, Hawkeye thought it was probably for the best. A doctor's memory is of the utmost importance, and it was sad to see his dad's starting to falter. But the man _was _67, and he had earned himself a relaxing retirement filled with fishing and puttering around the house. "That's no problem, Dad," he said, his hand on Daniel's shoulder, "I'll take care of your patients and your place. You go ahead and put your feet up, and enjoy the hell out of the rest of your life."

Hawkeye considered taking on a partner, but knew it would be hard to find someone he clicked with. For the time being, he took on the extra work himself, and allowed Sheila to boss him around when she got in one of her moods. The practice continued to thrive even without the elder Pierce. Hawkeye _really_ couldn't get drunk and hungover now, and that was all right, because he'd managed to nip that nasty habit in the bud, thanks to the metaphorical kick in the butt from his dear old dad.

He kept on keeping on. Very little else changed in his life, and that seemed fine, because he liked his house and his cat and his job and his friends, even if they were scattered far and wide over the whole damn country.

Then on Thanksgiving Day of that year, he picked up the phone to call his dad, and everything changed.


	6. Chapter 6

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dad!" Hawkeye said exuberantly into the phone. "You want me to pick you up at 12:30, or are you going to meet me there?"

Every year, they ate Thanksgiving dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Crabapple Cove… which was to say, the more expensive one of the two.

"What?" his father said in a dazed voice that made him sound very unlike Daniel.

Hawkeye cleared his throat, feeling uneasy. "Uh, Thanksgiving dinner. I can pick you up, or we can drive separately, it doesn't matter to me."

"Who is this?"

The confusion in his father's voice made Hawkeye's blood run cold. His pop was not kidding around… he had no idea who he was talking to. "It's Hawkeye, Dad. What's going on?"

"Oh. Hawkeye." But it sounded like he was simply repeating the name, not attaching any significance to it. Hawkeye had to sit down in the kitchen chair, his legs had suddenly become wobbly. Daniel said, "Where did you say we're going?"

"To Thanksgiving dinner. You want to, right? We always do."

"What's that?"

Hawkeye's mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and there was an audible click in his throat. "Do you mean… Dad, do you mean you don't know what Thanksgiving is?"

A long silence that spoke volumes.

"I'm coming over right now. Don't go anywhere, I'm on my way in just a minute or two. OK?"

"All right."

Hawkeye had almost hung up the phone when he stopped, and said one last thing. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're my son. Hawkeye."

Well, there was that, at least. Hawkeye raced to his dad's house and spent his Thanksgiving morning trying to diagnose whatever the hell was wrong with his father.

He wasn't certain that day, or the next, or the next. But over the following weeks it became clear: dementia had begun to take hold of Daniel Pierce.

* * *

"Christmas was rough," Hawkeye said, his legs splayed out before him as he slumped on his couch. Not just Christmas had been rough, but the last month and a half had been, ever since his father's condition had announced itself so chillingly.

It was mid-January, and his own personal superhero had arrived from California to provide some much-needed emotional support. Hawkeye was dragging. Keeping the practice going single-handedly, while also dealing with this overwhelmingly sad health problem of his dad's. It was taking a toll.

B.J. was sitting next to him but facing him full-on, watching him closely. "You look exhausted, Hawk."

So exhausted and busy he hadn't even been able to pick up B.J. at the airport. Poor guy had had to take a taxi to get to Hawkeye's house.

Hawkeye nodded agreement to his friend's obviously accurate assessment. With B.J. at his side, he finally had someone to say it to: "I have no earthly idea what to do."

His father was still living alone in that huge house of his, the Victorian that Hawkeye had grown up in. But how much longer could Hawkeye allow that?

"No matter what I suggest, Dad's against it. I tell him I could move into his house. No. I tell him he could move into this house—I have that second bedroom, the Swamp. He could have that room. But no." Hawkeye smiled bitterly. "Don't even ask what happens when I talk about a nursing home."

B.J. reached out, ran a hand up and down Hawkeye's arm soothingly. "I don't think he gets to have any say in the matter, Hawk. If his condition is as bad as you say, he needs around-the-clock care. Period."

Hawkeye nodded. That was not a revelation to him, but Hawkeye was too close to the situation to be objective. His father was… well, his _father_. He wasn't used to disobeying the man.

"You want my opinion?" B.J. asked.

"Of course."

"Being brutally honest here, Hawk, because I can see how completely wiped you are. There is only one option, and that is he needs to go into a nursing home. You cannot be a full-time doctor to Crabapple Cove and a part-time caregiver to your dad, while being a full-time worrier about everything. It's going to beat you down."

As if he himself had made that speech, Hawkeye felt the dam burst inside him and he broke down in a cathartic release. Of course B.J. was right, and Hawkeye had probably known the solution all along, but hearing it put so plainly—and with such conviction—drove any doubts out of his head. He reached out blindly and grasped B.J., clinging, bringing him close, crying into his shirt.

"This is why I'm here," B.J. mumbled as he held his best friend. "I'm here to help."

"God, Beej… just your being here helps." Hawkeye's face was still buried in B.J.'s shirt, muffling his voice, but the tears were tapering off. "And then you go and solve my life in the first five minutes you're here. What do you do for an encore?"

"For an encore… I make us a macaroni and cheese supper. What do you say?"

Hawkeye pulled himself up to look into B.J.'s sweet, accommodating face. "I say marry me, Dr. Hunnicutt, because you're the complete package."

And just like that, the tears turned to laughter.


	7. Chapter 7

_(Author's Note: I'm not calling Daniel's condition Alzheimer's disease because I don't believe that was how it was referred to in the 1950s. I think the common use of that name came much later. But then again, I am neither a doctor nor an expert.)_

Hawkeye took B.J. to visit his dad the next day, with the idea that they'd tag-team as they explained to Daniel that a nursing home was in his near future… and there was no room for debate.

Although Daniel had met B.J. numerous times since 1953, he did not recognize his son's best friend.

"Dad, this is B.J. You know him… he and I served together at the 4077th."

Daniel nodded but clearly it did not ring a bell, not in that moment. He gestured them inside, through his living room and into the kitchen, where he asked Hawkeye to make coffee.

There was small talk about the weather ("We got 13 inches of snow last Friday!") while Hawkeye busied himself brewing coffee. After he poured three cups and got out the cream and sugar, he took a seat next to B.J., subconsciously positioning the two of them opposite Daniel on the other side. It made Hawkeye's heart heavy to realize he was about to demand his father move into a home because they were out of options. This was not how he'd envisioned his dad's retirement.

Daniel sipped his coffee but was squinting at B.J., still trying to place the face. "I'm sorry, who did you say you were again?"

B.J. was patience personified as he repeated his name. "I was a surgeon at the 4077th M*A*S*H along with Hawkeye. In the war."

"Oh, the 4077th. Yes, of course, the Army hospital in Korea. My son served there, did you boys know him?"

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Hawkeye felt a chill run down his back. B.J. was struck speechless, but Hawkeye couldn't blame him.

"Dad," Hawkeye said calmly, "_I'm_ your son. I'm Hawkeye." He let that sink in for a moment, and then he continued, pointing toward B.J. "This is B.J. and I met him in Korea. He's my best friend, and you have met him before—quite a few times before."

He could see his father absorbing that information, and it tore his heart to pieces as he watched his dad's face crumple. The old man put his hands over his eyes, apparently embarrassed. He seemed to be more lucid when he spoke again, "What's wrong with me? I don't understand what's wrong with me…"

Hawkeye, his voice gentle, explained it again. "It's dementia, Dad. It's a brain disorder, and it's not your fault that this has happened to you."

Although he'd told Daniel those same words before, for some reason, this time they seemed to hit home. Daniel inhaled sharply and then began to sob, and Hawkeye moved quickly around the table to take his dad into his arms, comforting as best he could.

When the dust settled, when Hawkeye and B.J. were finally able to talk to him about the nursing home, Daniel nodded his acceptance. It was clear, even to him in his addled state, that that was the only solution that made sense.


	8. Chapter 8

B.J. came back to Maine less than a month later, to help Hawkeye pack up his dad's house. It was above and beyond the call, but B.J. had insisted. And truthfully, Hawkeye wasn't inclined to reject the offer anyway. Packing up all of his dad's belongings and putting most of it into storage was a huge job, and he welcomed the help.

The first night they worked on what Daniel had called his study, putting a mountain of outdated medical journals into boxes (Hawkeye refused to throw out any kind of medical literature, even if the headline on the cover read "How to Bleed With Leeches"), throwing out patient histories when said patient had since passed away, and saving the more recent patient charts in case Hawkeye was going to need them.

Just after 12:30, they finally called it a night. Hawkeye labeled the last box "Current Patients," set it onto the floor, and then plopped down next to it, beat. B.J. followed suit, lying down a few feet away, settling onto this side so he was facing his friend.

They blinked at each other. Hawkeye stretched out, mirroring B.J. "Have I thanked you for coming out here and helping me with this?"

"Only about a thousand times."

"Well let me make it a thousand and one, then."

B.J. smiled, which lit up his eyes in spite of the exhaustion written on his face. "Happy to do it, Hawk. You feel better now that he's in the home?"

"I do. He's got nursing care whenever he needs it, which is a relief. People to watch over him. He's ornery at times, and that's to be expected, but he's adjusting. We both are." There was only a small desk lamp providing light in this room, casting shadows everywhere, reminding Hawkeye of lying awake nights in the Swamp, in the near-dark, talking with B.J. just like they were doing now. He yawned. "But enough about me," he quipped. "What's going on back in Mill Valley? How's the family?"

There was a pause, and Hawkeye felt ashamed that he hadn't thought to ask until now. B.J.'s hesitation was telling; Hawkeye could sense something was up. _Way to go, Pierce… too self-centered to realize your best friend may be having problems of his own._ "What is it, Beej?"

"Things are not great right now… with Peg. She's pissed at me a lot of the time. We've had some nasty fights. I think even Erin can tell that we're having…" He trailed off, apparently not wanting to say the word "problems." Because saying it would mean it must be real.

"Fights about what?"

"Oh… Peg really wants another baby, and I told you before—I think it would make matters worse. She keeps saying how all of her friends have two, three children. What the hell does that have to do with anything? When did having kids become a contest? It's true, when we first got married, we talked about having two kids… I absolutely wanted that, too, at the time. But now it doesn't seem like a good idea to me. She's already upset about the hours I put in at the hospital. She can't understand why I'm not home more. She married a surgeon, for God's sake. And dammit, I'm a good one!"

"You are. You're an excellent surgeon."

"I love my job, Hawk. I _love_ it. That doesn't mean I don't love my family, because of course I do. But Peg seems to think I ought to love my job a little less so I can be more of a husband and father." He shook his head, finding it hard to explain his wife's point of view because he clearly didn't agree with it. "Anyway, lately things have been tense. I'm less stressed at work than at home."

"I'm sorry, Beej."

B.J. nodded, "Thanks, Hawk. I would say 'don't worry, I'm sure things will work themselves out,' but that would be a lie, because I'm not sure of anything."

"Life doesn't always go according to plan, does it?" It was just something to say, but it felt significant as it lingered between them.

Their eyes locked, and Hawkeye was acutely aware of the hour and the silence and emptiness of the house, and the closeness of his best friend. What he wanted to do was scoot over a few feet and pull B.J. into his arms and hold him. Something they'd done so many times before. They were touchers… they were huggers… always had been. But Hawkeye couldn't move.

B.J. broke off the eye contact, turning onto his back to look at the ceiling, and Hawkeye felt his face grow warm, worried that B.J. had found his staring uncomfortable. The silence was spinning out, and Hawkeye was desperate to fill it. Hoping it wasn't rude to change the subject, he said, "I spoke to Sherman last week. He's doing all right."

B.J., his eyes shut now, said, "God, the way that poor man looked at Mildred's funeral. So distraught and…"

"Frail."

"Yes, frail. It's as if her death took half of him along."

"I think that's probably close to the truth."

"What they had… That kind of love is rare."

"Yeah." Hawkeye used to think that B.J.'s marriage was "that kind of love," but now he held his tongue, knowing better. Since his internal edit button was preventing him from going down that conversational road, he blurted out something else entirely. "Beej, what do you suppose is wrong with me?"

Now B.J. rolled onto his side again to face his friend, his brow furrowing. "What makes you think there's something _wrong _with you?"

Hawkeye gestured, "Look at me. I'm 37, unmarried, no kids, no family. When I was in my 20s, it was fine to be the carefree playboy, bed-hopping and self-involved. But now I'm close to 40 and it's… kind of ridiculous."

"Hawkeye, there is no blueprint for human beings that says everyone needs to be married by a certain age. When you find the right person, you'll hear the 'click' as the universe falls into place. And until that happens, you don't have to live your life according to what anyone else expects."

God, the man was wisdom in size 14 shoes. Hawkeye appreciated the philosophy as well as the fact that B.J. didn't judge him but accepted him as is. He loved the idea of the universe "clicking" into place when the right person came along, and he thought back to when he met his ex-wife, Kate, and how the only thing he remembered hearing was the sound of his libido telling him: _yes, this woman is gorgeous, can we skip dinner and go right to the bedroom?_

"Hopefully I won't be running off at the mouth so much that I'll miss hearing that telltale 'click,'" he said now with a wry smile. "Thanks, Beej. You always know exactly how to put my neuroses in perspective."

B.J. laughed. "Years of practice, Hawk. Years of practice."

Hawkeye, lulled by the reassuring talk they'd just had and tired from the physical work of the day, felt his eyes drifting shut and didn't bother to stop them. He and B.J. fell asleep there on the floor of Daniel's study, and at some point during the night, they subconsciously sought each other out, drawing together for warmth and touch, wrapping their arms around one another as they slumbered on.


	9. Chapter 9

"Mind if I ask you something, Beej?"

"Go right ahead."

It was day four of the packing that never seemed to end, though they actually _were _making serious progress by this point. Hawkeye planned for them to take tomorrow off from the chore entirely, give themselves a much-needed break and just spend the day golfing and otherwise relaxing. Today they were cleaning out Daniel's kitchen, and most of the stuff that was still useful was simply going to be donated to the local soup kitchen.

Hawkeye closed the cupboard he'd just emptied out and glanced at B.J. "Why _do_ you work so many long hours at the hospital?"

As he figured, a look of annoyance flashed across B.J.'s face. "What, did you turn into Peg when I wasn't paying attention?"

"Don't be pissed, OK? It's a legitimate question."

B.J. extended his hand as if offering a shake. "Have we met? B.J. Hunnicutt, I'm a _surgeon_."

Hawkeye didn't play along with the sarcasm. "Yes, and surgeons do sometimes have to work unexpectedly long hours. I know that very well. But here's the thing: when I'm out there in Mill Valley for a visit, you cut back on your hours then. And this is the second time you've come out to Maine in the last month or so, which means you're again putting your work on the back-burner for me. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I love you for it. But I'm sure your wife is also aware of what I'm pointing out… that you can break away from the hospital when you _want_ to." He opened another cupboard and began the process of methodically stacking utensils into a new box. "So I'm wondering why there are magically all these long hours at work at other times." He paused, and softened his voice for this next part, "Talk to me, Beej."

With a sigh, B.J. stopped packing dishes and dropped into the nearest kitchen chair. Hawkeye took a break as well, to show he was going to give his full attention to the conversation. He found a couple of tall glasses and poured ice tea, then sat at the table with his friend.

For a time, B.J. just sipped his drink while Hawkeye waited him out. "It's weird," B.J. finally said, gazing out the kitchen window. "Before the war, my marriage was perfect. Everything about my life was perfect. I adored Peg, we had Erin and I adored her too. I hadn't even fully adjusted to being a dad when the war came calling."

"I remember."

B.J. nodded, but kept his eyes on Daniel Pierce's backyard. "The whole time I was over there… well, you know, I don't have to tell you. I missed them like hell and I couldn't wait to get back to them. I counted the days."

"You did."

"But soon after I got back home, things seemed to change."

"Change how?"

"The perfect marriage had become… difficult. Peg and I—always so open and honest with each other before—were no longer communicating. Little things turned into big arguments. So, at some point I realized I was happier if I stayed at work longer. Work gave me satisfaction, it gave me a purpose, and things at home were frustrating." He finally brought his eyes back to Hawkeye's and said firmly, "Erin is the light of my life and I would do anything to save her from pain, so I don't even consider divorce. Or at least, not often."

Hawkeye was stunned but at the same time not really; he had sensed _something_. "Beej, I am so sorry. Why am I just hearing all of this now?"

"Because…" B.J. waved his hand, indicating Daniel Pierce's house, "because you have shit of your own to deal with. And because it's hard to talk about, even with my best friend in all the world. I haven't told anyone about this… not my folks, not any of my colleagues. If, hypothetically, Sidney Freedman had an office next door to my house, I don't know if I would even be able to talk to _him_ about it."

Hawkeye grasped B.J.'s arm, "Well I'm glad you're talking about it now."

"It seems wrong, when I have so much, to complain about anything. Maybe marriage is _supposed_ to be hard. What do I know? Maybe it is."

Shaking his head, Hawkeye said, "Not that hard, I don't think. Not that I'm any expert on the subject, of course." He smiled and got a weak smile in return.

B.J. finished his ice tea and let out a sigh. "Good Lord, Hawk… what a pair we are, huh? Were we actually happier during the Korean War? Could that be true?"

Hawkeye had to laugh at that observation. Hell, it was either laugh or cry. "Probably is true… and how's that for irony?"

"So those were the good ol' days," B.J. marveled. "Wish somebody had told us."

"I think Burns may have told us, but who the hell listened to anything that guy said?"

Hawkeye rinsed out the empty glasses and the two of them got back to work. There was a heaviness in the air now, following B.J.'s shocking confession, and because Hawkeye didn't know how to combat it, they simply packed in silence.


	10. Chapter 10

Daniel's house did not sell quickly. It was on the market for three months before a young couple who were planning to have a large family made an offer that was acceptable, if quite a bit lower than the asking price. The Victorian had been Hawkeye's childhood home, and he hated the thought of strangers moving into it, but there was nothing he could do about that. Life moved on.

He visited his father nearly every day in the home, and it was a weight off his mind to know that his pop had constant care, which was becoming more and more essential as his memory faded.

Hawkeye started to interview prospective partners for his practice, but he could tell it was going to be a long and painful search. Apart from being overworked, he could feel his life smoothing out in the aftermath of his dad's health crisis. He kept his work hours as close to 8 to 5 as possible. He'd go home to Aphrodite and, usually, a take-out supper. He dated every now and then—still careful not to allow any woman to get too close—but most of his free nights were spent visiting Daniel. On occasional Saturdays, he'd take his dad out for an afternoon of fishing.

When he phoned B.J., which was still often, they danced around the subject of B.J.'s marriage. Hawkeye would ask, "How is everything?" and that was meant to be an invitation to B.J. to unburden his soul, if he wanted to. But B.J. would always reply, "Good, we're doing good," and that would be the end of that. Erin would ask B.J. if she could talk to Uncle Hawkeye, and so he'd let her, and for a few minutes Hawkeye would hear all about Erin's new doll or her latest trip to the park. "When are you coming to visit again, Hawkeye?" she'd ask. And he didn't want to lie to his favorite little girl, so he'd tell her, "I don't know, Erin. Things are a little crazy right now. But I'm always thinking about you, sweetie. I'm always missing you."

One evening when he was visiting his dad and they were attempting to play a game of checkers (his dad could no longer remember how to play chess), Daniel said, apropos of nothing, "I want you to be happy, Hawkeye."

Hawkeye lifted his eyes from the board. "What makes you think I'm not, Dad?"

Daniel, mostly coherent on this night, replied with, "_Are _you?"

And because he'd never been able to lie to his dad, Hawkeye said, "I don't think so, no."

His dad put a hand on top of Hawkeye's. "Find happiness, son."

"Just like that, huh?"

A small smile came to Daniel's face. "Ask yourself what you want, because deep down inside, you know."

"Suppose what I want is something I can't have. How does happiness come out of that?"

His father paused for a long moment, then leaned in and said confidentially, "We had meatloaf tonight, and tapioca pudding for dessert."

It took Hawkeye a second to realize that his dad was not talking in metaphors; his train of thought had derailed and instead of continuing their conversation, he was reciting his supper menu. Hawkeye hadn't known how tense he'd been, waiting for the old man's words of wisdom, until he felt his shoulders drop. He had to laugh. Daniel had been downright profound… up until the dementia took over. _Story of my life. Just when I think I'm going to get answers to life's great mysteries, somebody starts to talk nonsense._

"King me," his dad said.

"Yes sir," Hawkeye said, and did.


	11. Chapter 11

_June 1958_

Hawkeye had a very good feeling about James Dixon as soon as the young man stepped into his office. There was something about the way he carried himself, with obvious confidence but not arrogance. Hawkeye was halfway sold on the guy even before he extended his hand and announced, "Dr. James Dixon, sir, it's nice to meet you."

The kid won him over completely during the half-hour interview. Dixon was two years out of med school and was currently working at a family practice near Dover, New Hampshire, but was looking to move back to his native Maine to be closer to his folks (_Ten bonus points,_ Hawkeye thought, _for the strong family ties_). He was chatty but not overly so, and he laughed at Hawkeye's wisecracks (_Twenty bonus points)._

By the time they were done talking business, Hawkeye knew he didn't need to look any further. He reached across the desk and shook Dixon's hand again. "The job's yours if you want it, James."

The kid beamed. "Please call me Jim. And yes, sir, I do. Thank you."

Jim quickly learned Hawkeye's routine, preferences and idiosyncrasies, and the patients loved him. Hawkeye felt the stress of having to single-handedly run the practice melt away. The young doctor was a godsend.

One steamy night in July, Hawkeye's ex-wife, Kate, called him from out of the blue to announce she was getting remarried. "Crabapple Cove's a tiny town," she said, as if he didn't know. "I thought I'd better tell you before somebody else did."

Hawkeye made the appropriate happy noises and said "Congratulations" at least five times. The conversation was cordial and brief. When he hung up the phone, he realized his palms were sweaty, and without thinking, he left the house and drove to Dempsey's bar.

He ordered a Scotch but ended up only taking one sip before deciding he didn't want it, and most definitely didn't need it. He sat there a little longer, his eyes traveling around the bar. It was a sparse crowd tonight, but he recognized quite a few of the patrons—five patients of his, a man he ran into often at the movie theater, and a woman who worked as a teller at his bank. Plenty of acquaintances, but for some reason, he didn't feel like talking to any of them.

Hawkeye paid the bartender and left, and as he was driving home on dark, deserted, winding back roads, he couldn't figure out why Kate's news was having this effect on him. He didn't love her, and probably never really had, so the fact that she was moving on with her life shouldn't bother him.

He felt adrift, though, and confused. Everyone around him had a life, while he only had an existence. He was losing his dad to a progressive disease, his closest friends were not local, and his dates were merely distractions. His eyes teared up as he drove home, and he couldn't imagine feeling more alone than he did at that moment.

His mouth on autopilot, he mumbled, "If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you, Except the will which says to them, 'Hold on.'" He let out a startled laugh when he realized what he was quoting. "Rudyard Kipling."

As soon as he got back to his house, he picked up the phone. "My partner can handle the practice on his own for a week," he told B.J. "Is it all right if I come out there and visit?"

And of course B.J. gave an enthusiastic, emphatic "Yes!" Hawkeye could hear him yelling to Erin with the news, and she squealed in the background, and Hawkeye knew instantly that he was doing the right thing.

He booked his flight for the weekend.


	12. Chapter 12

Erin did _not _want to go to bed. She and her dad and Hawkeye had been out in the backyard, catching fireflies and then letting them go. They'd been laughing and telling stories and wandering around the yard for the last two or three hours, but now it was nearly midnight and that was _long_ past Erin's bedtime. Peg had retired for the night at 10, not that she'd been hanging out with the rest of them anyway. She was distant, Hawkeye noted, on this visit. When she and B.J. spoke to each other, there was almost a formality to their conversations. As if they were business partners instead of life partners.

B.J. had to physically steer his little girl into the house and then to her bedroom. Hawkeye followed to help get her settled in. She was 7 already (_holy hell, she's growing up so fast!)_ and B.J. had told him that she was past the "tucking in" stage, but since Hawkeye was visiting, she wanted them to do the nightly ritual with her. Frankly, he loved it.

She changed into her pajamas while Hawkeye and B.J. turned their backs, and then she crawled into bed. B.J. pulled her sheets up and made a big show about tucking them around her. She gave him the pleading eyes, all innocence and sweetness, "Can I get a story?"

"No, ma'am," B.J. said sternly. "It is already way too late, there will be no more stalling. If your mom knew you were still up, I'd be in deep shi—trouble."

She giggled. She knew the word that had almost come out. Glancing up at Hawkeye, who was standing bedside, she said, "Night-night, Hawkeye."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Princess Erin, ruler of this bedroom domain and all of the stuffed-animal inhabitants herein." That got her laughing more, even though there had to be a few words in that sentence that she didn't understand.

B.J. kissed her cheek. "Sweet dreams, honey." He turned out the light and they left her to her slumber (or so they hoped), ambling down the hall to the guest room.

Hawkeye was expecting B.J. to simply bid him a goodnight and continue on to his own room, but instead B.J. followed him inside. "How are you doing, Hawk? Feeling better?" he asked, leaning against the closed door as Hawkeye pulled off his sweaty T-shirt.

He considered that instead of answering with a knee-jerk "yes." He'd been at the Hunnicutts' for five days now, and certainly his spirits were lifted. But when he got back home, how was he going to feel then? Would the crushing loneliness that had sent him out here return? He let his shirt drop to the floor and he shrugged. "I feel better _now_, Beej, thanks to you. I'm not sure about my long-term prognosis, though."

B.J. tilted his head, looking cute in his concern as he stood there, leaning back against the door, arms crossed. A typical Hunnicutt stance. Until he'd met B.J., Hawkeye had never realized just how fascinating a man's forearms could be.

Hawkeye waved a hand, irritated with himself. "Don't worry about me, Beej. I'm tired of my own self-involved complaining."

"Hawkeye, if you're feeling sad, it doesn't make any sense to pretend otherwise. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with _me_."

And then this came out of Hawkeye's mouth, and since it didn't get approval from his brain first, he knew it must be something he truly believed: "Maybe I'm not meant to be in love."

B.J. moved to him swiftly and pulled him into his arms, all strength and comfort. "I don't believe that for a second," he said, words coming out muffled because his mouth was against Hawkeye's neck. "Not for a second."

Hearing the fierce belief in B.J.'s voice, Hawkeye could feel his shoulders relax. "Thanks, Beej. Thank you."

They lingered, holding onto each other, Hawkeye with his eyes shut tight. They breathed together.

Then B.J. pulled back slightly, blinked his beautiful blue eyes, and leaned in. Hawkeye could have stopped him but he didn't dare. The kiss was soft and chaste and perfect. They could have even pretended it was the kind of kiss that men give to other men friends on occasion, except that just as soon as it ended, they both went back for another. And that one wasn't quite so chaste.

So much for pretending.

Confused, maybe a little scared, but immersed in the moment, Hawkeye opened his mouth slightly. B.J. willingly offered his tongue and the kiss deepened. Hawkeye's hands moved to grip B.J. at the waist. The moment was both surreal and sublime.

Time froze. Hawkeye was aware that Peg Hunnicutt was sleeping down the hall while he was standing in the guest room kissing her husband. It was way past the point of common sense, not to mention common decency.

_We need to stop. This is wrong. This is so wrong…_

Hawkeye couldn't believe he was the first one to break contact. He did it gently, and took a half step back. He hated himself for the kissing and then hated himself more for stopping. His head was muddled. He looked at B.J., wondering which one of them was supposed to apologize first.

But neither apologized at all. Instead, B.J. offered a shy smile and said, "Goodnight, Hawk."

"Yeah," he tried, but had to clear his throat to get his voice working. "Yeah, Beej, goodnight."

Without another word, B.J. left the room. Hawkeye stood stock-still for a long moment, then turned out the light and fell onto the bed to try to figure out what the hell had just happened.


	13. Chapter 13

Hawkeye couldn't have been too troubled because he fell asleep as he lay there pondering this latest development in his messed-up life. He jolted awake at one point, and realized he had never finished getting undressed; he was lying on top of the bedsheets in his jeans. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. Quarter after two in the morning.

Still not bothering to get out of his clothes, he turned onto his side, all set to fall back asleep… except that's when his brain kicked into overdrive. His eyes snapped open.

_Did B.J. and I actually __kiss__? Did that really happen?_

It sure did. But meanwhile, B.J. was right this minute in the bedroom down the hall, curled up in the arms of his loving wife. (_Wait, not so loving anymore… maybe._) Hawkeye felt his face heat up. _Am I actually getting jealous that my best friend is in bed with his wife?_

He wondered if he should cut his visit short. Were things going to get uncomfortable between him and Beej now? Was B.J. going to confess their indiscretion to Peg?

Unbidden, the kiss came back to him in all its heart-stopping glory, and he sighed at the sensory memory. The moistness of B.J.'s lips, the weight of his tongue. By God, it'd been delicious. Hawkeye had never kissed a man before, had never even thought about it. It was a very different taste and texture from a woman's kiss. It was musky and strong and coarse, but in a good way. It was B.J.

They'd been together through the worst horror of their lives, had seen each other at their best and at their absolute lowest points. They were forever locked together as best friends, colleagues, partners in crime. They would get over a simple little kiss.

Or two.

Having almost convinced himself that there was no reason to be tossing and turning at 2 a.m., he began to drift off, until a nagging part of his mind spoke up: _Here's the thing, though… I want to kiss him again._

* * *

Out on the links the next afternoon, they still hadn't talked about it. But fortunately, there was no awkwardness between them… it was if nothing unusual had happened at all. They joked, they talked, they played golf.

Hawkeye found his eyes drawn repeatedly to B.J.'s wedding band. He couldn't stop looking at it.

_What is it you want, Pierce? What the hell is going on?_

He'd come out to the Bay Area in a state of loneliness and confusion, and what he had found was even more confusion, of a different kind.

B.J. had said something to him. "Sorry, Beej, what?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go see a movie tonight," B.J. repeated as he addressed his ball. "Maybe find a family picture so Peg and Erin could come along."

"Yeah, sure. That sounds nice."

But the mention of Peg's name stung a little. Why, he didn't know; it wasn't as if B.J. had magically lost a wife in the last few hours since they left the house. It made Hawkeye take stock of his feelings, believing now that the kiss had meant nothing to B.J., nothing at all.

_Get over it, Pierce. Nothing good can come from the thoughts you've been having, so just move on. _

It was very good advice, and his brain was completely on board, but he wasn't so sure about the rest of his body. He watched B.J. swinging his golf club and his eyes traveled over the man's form appreciatively… long legs, cute ass, strong upper body. B.J. sent his golf ball sailing through the air and then turned, catching Hawkeye staring at him. Hawkeye felt unnerved, as if B.J. could read his thoughts. But B.J. only smiled warmly.

"Your turn, Hawk."

He was so preoccupied and out of sorts, his golf game was horrendous. B.J. beat him with ease. Hawkeye felt like a different person, wearing a mask to cover his bewilderment and… what word did he want? Lust? Desire?

Craziness.

All of a sudden he was anxious for his visit to the Hunnicutts' to come to an end.


	14. Chapter 14

Back home and settled into his work routine, Hawkeye sat in his office one evening after Jim and Sheila had left and dug out his address book. Before he could talk himself out of it, he dialed the number.

"Hey, Sidney, how the hell are ya? It's Hawkeye Pierce."

There was a delighted laugh on the other end of the line. "Hawkeye! It's great to hear your voice. I think the better question is how the hell are _you_?"

In the first year following the war, Hawkeye and Sidney had kept up their sessions over the phone. Hawkeye was still in recovery from the breakdown that he'd suffered in the war's final days, and he didn't like the idea of looking for a local psychiatrist, not to mention the fact that he doubted he'd find the same comfort level with someone new. Sidney was open to having sessions over the phone, and they went well, even though it was sometimes difficult because Hawkeye couldn't see Sidney and vice-versa.

Eventually the therapy tapered off, then stopped altogether. Hawkeye was never going to forget about the horrific incident on the bus that night, but he was no longer consumed by guilt. The pain had lessened over time.

"I'm doing OK, Sid," he said now, "but I do have something I'd like to talk to you about. Do you think we can set up an appointment?"

"I'm free now, if that's OK with you, Hawk. You caught me at a good time. Shoot, if you'll pardon the expression."

That threw Hawkeye a little; he hadn't planned how he was going to broach the subject. He took a long moment to think, and then finally he opened his mouth, and out came: "Sidney, by the time a man is 38, he ought to know his sexual orientation, right?"

At first Sidney chuckled, but then he must've realized this was serious business. "What are you saying? Are you saying you think you're homosexual?"

Hawkeye, filled with nervous energy, began to fiddle with the phone cord, then a pen. "I'm having feelings, Sidney. Intense and confusing feelings…" He let that trail off, because Sidney was very acquainted with the object of Hawkeye's affections, so he didn't want to disclose B.J.'s name.

Sidney was apparently nonplussed, because there was silence for a very long time. This was the tough part about therapy with Sidney Freedman over the phone. He did have these naturally long pauses in his everyday conversations with patients; he absorbed everything that a person said and mulled it over at length. But waiting him out without being able to see him… that drove Hawkeye crazy. In a manner of speaking.

Eventually Sidney replied, "Hawkeye, you have always struck me as a person with an extra-strength capacity for love. You _feel _so much. The other thing you are and always have been is honest with yourself. So the fact that you're even asking the question seems to suggest you already know the answer. Don't deny your feelings just because you don't think they make sense."

"But it's awfully late in my life to suddenly find myself attracted to a… to a man."

"There's a whole school of thought that everyone is innately bisexual—but I'm probably telling you something you already know. That's right out of Psych 101."

"So… you think this could actually be something? I mean, it's not just a temporary reaction to something else…?"

"I don't know the details, Hawkeye, so I can't say. If you want to tell me the details, we can try to figure it out together."

Hawkeye didn't really want to tell him everything, no. This was hard to talk about, even with the best psychiatrist he'd ever had the privilege of knowing.

Sidney picked up on the hesitation. "But if you don't, then I think you should ask yourself what you asked me. Are the feelings real, or are they the result of something else that's going on? You're very good at knowing yourself, Hawkeye. It's one of your best qualities."

They talked for another few minutes, but since Hawkeye didn't want to go into specifics, the session sputtered to an end. They talked a little about Sherman Potter, and how he was managing to carry on after the death of his wife, and a few of their other friends from the war. They said their goodbyes with promises to visit each other before too much more time passed.

On his walk home from work, Hawkeye did as Sidney had suggested: he asked himself, _Are my feelings for B.J. real, or is this just some weird phase I'm going through?_

He got his answer that night, when the phone rang in the middle of _The Donna Reed Show. _At the sound of B.J.'s voice on the other end, his stomach did a little somersault, his heart fluttered, and his face broke out into a grin.

No doubt about it, he was in love.


	15. Chapter 15

It was just one of their regular weekly calls, even though Hawkeye had just been out to Mill Valley for a visit. On the surface, nothing between the two best friends had changed. Hawkeye may have had an epiphany of his own, but the fact of the matter was B.J. still had never mentioned the kiss they'd shared. If he was questioning the nature of their relationship as Hawkeye was, he didn't give any indication.

"Did your partner keep all of the patients alive while you were gone?" B.J. asked with a smile in his voice.

"The kid's been terrific," Hawkeye said as Aphrodite serpentined through his legs. "He's my greatest discovery since I plucked a young, fresh-faced B.J. Hunnicutt out of obscurity and taught him everything he knows about surgery."

That got a full-throated laugh out of B.J., which was exactly what Hawkeye'd been going for. The sound of it made his heart beat a little faster. Speaking of that fresh face, Hawkeye pictured it now, the bright eyes and the blinding smile. He missed B.J. so much it hurt, and the hell of it was, he'd just seen him a few days ago.

"Erin wants to talk to you," B.J. was saying, and of course Hawkeye said yes.

Much rustling as the phone was transferred, then: "Hawkeye?"

"Hey, darlin'. How are you?"

"Hawkeye, my friend Debbie and I went roller skating today, did you ever roller skate? It was so much fun! And then her mom took us for ice cream, and while we were there? At the ice cream place? A man came in all scared, and we didn't know what was wrong, but he said there was a car accident and could the ice cream guy call for an ambulance, and then we went outside to see the accident, but Debbie's mom wouldn't let us see much." All of that came out in a rush, while Hawkeye made some "Oh?" and "Wow" noises when he could. "We stayed until the ambulance came but we still didn't see much." The part about not being able to see gore and blood was clearly disappointing to her.

"Well it sounds like you had an interesting day, Erin."

"When are you going to come visit again?" As with most kids, her change of gears was fast and without warning.

"I was just there," he reminded her. "I need to stay home for a while now, I've got patients who need me. And my dad, too."

"Oh."

"I miss you, though."

"I miss you too, Hawkeye. OK, here's Daddy."

Hawkeye smiled. The mercurial mind of a 7-year-old. B.J. came back on the line and Hawkeye almost told him about speaking with Sidney Freedman earlier in the day, but then he remember _why _he'd spoken to Sidney and he opted not to mention it.

They were nearing the end of their conversation when B.J. said, out of left field, "You're the best friend I've ever had, Hawkeye."

It gave Hawkeye pause, because of course he knew that already, and also because he didn't know why B.J. felt the need to say it. "I know, Beej," he said softly. "And right back at ya."

"I… well, I just wanted you to know."

"I already did know. But thanks."

The words were sweet and beautiful and of course Hawkeye knew they were heartfelt. But they hurt a little bit, too, because Hawkeye was falling in love, and it seemed clear that B.J. was never going to reciprocate.


	16. Chapter 16

The summer sweltered on. Hawkeye worked, visited his dad, went to the movies, walked along the beach. The one thing he didn't do was date. His heart wasn't in it.

In mid-August, Klinger called him and announced, "You're going to be an uncle again!" Soon-Lee was expecting their third child; they had two girls and were hoping for a boy this time. Between Klinger, Radar, Margaret and B.J., sometimes it seemed like Hawkeye was an uncle to thousands. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Back when he'd first arrived in Korea in 1950, cynical, caustic and hedonistic, he'd been a far cry from avuncular. Apparently his friends thought he had mellowed, and he supposed he had.

Mellowed, but still alone. Worse than being alone was knowing who you wanted but not being able to do anything about it. Some nights he would lie in bed, sleepless, yearning for B.J. Never before had he thought about a man's body the way he was thinking about B.J.'s. Wanting to lie naked with him, wanting to give him pleasure, and get pleasure in return.

Not that labels really mattered to Hawkeye, but he wondered if this meant he was bisexual. He supposed so… well, except for the odd fact that he was no longer thinking about women at all. His mind's eye only got the B.J. Channel these days. So he was what… homosexual… out of the blue, at his age? He didn't think it was as black-and-white as that. As Sidney had mentioned, perhaps everyone had the capacity to feel something for a member of their own sex. Most people no doubt suppressed such feelings. But Hawkeye was open-minded, self-aware and forthright, and he didn't back down or turn away from what his heart was telling him.

His mind, meanwhile, kept playing the _if_ game. If only B.J. wasn't married. If only the two of them had found each other long ago, before Peg Hayden. If only, if only.

_If_ meant nothing in the end, though. Reality flew in the face of _if_.

He recalled B.J.'s own words of wisdom: _When you find the right person, you'll hear the 'click' as the universe falls into place._

Hawkeye's mind went back to that day in 1951 when he shook B.J.'s hand at Kimpo Airport and then tried to calm down a panicked Radar, paraphrasing a line from the poem _If_. He remembered B.J. standing behind him, saying, "Rudyard Kipling."

And in retrospect, he was positive he'd heard a "click" at that precise moment.

_The universe may have fallen into place, but I'm still left stranded on my own little island. Figures._

* * *

In early September, Hawkeye got a frantic phone call in the middle of his workday from the nursing home. His father had somehow managed to wander off after breakfast, and nobody could find him.

Hawkeye had Sheila cancel some of his appointments and got Jim to take the others as he headed off for the nursing home, trying not to imagine the worst.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Pierce," the receptionist said, "nobody saw him leave the building. He must have been awfully sly about it."

Hawkeye nodded, but he suspected the more likely reason was there were too few staffers at this place given the number of residents. They couldn't all be everywhere at once. Not knowing what else to do, he went to his father's room and looked around, as if there were going to be some clue jumping out at him, telling him where to find Daniel. And as he stood there at his father's bedside, looking at the framed pictures on his nightstand, inspiration hit.

He took off for their old house, the huge Victorian that they'd lived in as Hawkeye had grown up… the house that Daniel held onto even after Hawkeye moved out on his own. And sure enough, as he pulled up to the curb, he saw his dad sitting on the top step of the front porch, as if he still lived there, as if he belonged.

Hawkeye got out of the car and cautiously approached. "Hey Dad?"

Daniel looked up. "Oh hello, son."

At least he recognized Hawkeye, a good start. "You had us worried. The folks at the nursing home were looking high and low for you." He was on the porch now, and went into a crouch to be eye-to-eye with his dad. "You _do_ know that this isn't your home anymore, right?"

His dad cast his eyes away from Hawkeye, looking out into the street. There was a long pause and then he said, sadly, "I miss it."

Hawkeye put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. I miss it, too. It was ours for a very long time, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, son. Yeah it was."

Hawkeye didn't see any reason to rush his dad away from the house. The current owners didn't appear to be home, and all Daniel was doing was sitting on the porch, feeling nostalgic. Hawkeye sat right next to him, and for a while they reminisced about their years in this house… about Mom and her trademark apple pies and how delicious they were… about Hawkeye and Daniel making French toast and in the process making a complete mess of the kitchen… about taking turns mowing the big backyard once Hawkeye was old enough to help mow.

When they were all talked out, Hawkeye gently led Daniel away from the house and to the car. The old man willingly went back to the nursing home, and Hawkeye left him napping in his bed.

Between that brief scare, which had him preoccupied for a while, and a particularly busy time at work, Hawkeye didn't realize right away that B.J. had gone radio silent. It suddenly dawned on him one evening as he readied for bed that it'd been more than two weeks since they'd actually spoken. Hawkeye had tried to call him a few days prior but the phone had gone unanswered, which didn't worry him at the time, because it just meant the whole family was out, doing family things. Maybe seeing a movie or something.

But now that he was pausing to think about it, he calculated that it'd been 16 days since the last time they talked, and that was very unusual. Almost unheard of. So he picked up the phone right away and dialed. And once again, the ringing went unanswered. Nobody was home… again?

He was getting alarmed, and promised himself he'd try again the next day, even calling B.J. at his hospital if need be.

But he got busy at work and didn't get the chance. Weirdly, his phone at home was ringing when he stepped in the door that evening, and he knew—he _knew_—it was B.J.

And it was.

"Hawkeye?" His voice was strained, not sounding at all like the usually carefree, chipper B.J. Hunnicutt he knew and loved.

"Beej? Is everything all right?"

"Can I come out there for the weekend?"

Hawkeye didn't like the tone of his friend's voice. "Of course, of course. You don't even have to ask me that. But what's wrong? Is Erin all right?"

"Erin's fine, she's fine. We'll talk when I see you, OK? I want to wait until I see you."

"OK, Beej. Come on out. The Swamp and I await your arrival." He was trying to elicit a laugh, or at least a lighter mood, but it wasn't working.

"Thanks, Hawkeye. Things are… well, never mind. I'll tell you when I see you."

That was how they left it, but the cryptic conversation started to drive Hawkeye crazy with worry as soon as he hung up the phone. What was happening at Chez Hunnicutt?


	17. Chapter 17

B.J. flew out to Maine the next day. Hawkeye had to work in the morning but planned to cut out of the office at noon, giving himself a long weekend to devote all his time and energy to B.J.

He walked home from the office briskly, equally worried and excited. The last time he'd actually seen B.J. was that July visit when they'd kissed (not that he thought about that much… well, not any more than a hundred times a day). For some twisted reason, he couldn't shake the idea that B.J. was going to tell him he was ill. _Stop thinking such dark thoughts, Pierce. And even if he is ill—that's OK, because I'll make him better. It's what I do._

As he neared his house, he could see B.J. standing on his front porch. He'd gotten in earlier than Hawkeye expected. Hawkeye felt his heart thump at the sight of the man, and he picked up his pace.

"Hey Beej, great to see you!" he exclaimed when he got to the porch. He opened his arms wide and B.J. rushed into them, and for a moment, the entire world stopped while they held one another… taking comfort in the contact.

B.J. had this strange expression on his face that seemed to be a mix of anxiety, joy, trepidation and fatigue. Hawkeye's worry was increasing a hundredfold by the second. "Hawkeye, there's so much to tell you—"

Hawkeye could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He gestured to the front door, "Let's go inside and sit down. I feel like I need to sit. You've got me worried to death."

B.J. nodded, "Yeah, let's go inside."

Hawkeye got two bottles of beer out of the fridge and handed one over to B.J. They sat on the couch but neither drank, and after a second, B.J. sprang up again and started to pace. "I've rehearsed how I was going to tell you and now suddenly I have no idea how to start." He laughed bitterly. He looked—well, he looked cute as always, there was no denying that. But he looked very beaten down by whatever the hell was on his mind.

Hawkeye's voice, somehow calm even though he was anything but: "Just tell me. Whatever it is, I'm here. If I can help, I'll help."

B.J. set his beer bottle down on the coffee table and ran a hand through his hair. He stopped pacing and stood before Hawkeye. "Peg and I have separated, that's the first thing. I don't think you'll find that too surprising, since I've been telling you that we were drifting apart, and you probably saw that, too, when you were out there visiting. "

Hawkeye's mouth had gone dry, and he couldn't think of anything to say, so he only nodded. He _was _surprised, though—he thought couples stayed together through just about anything when they had a kid to consider.

B.J. went on, "We just decided the other day that we're going to go through with a divorce. She wants more kids—well, you know that story very well. And obviously that means she wants to find a man who'll give her more kids, and she knows she can't wait long to start dating again." He gave another of those bitter laughs. "She's gotten almost clinical about it, 'I only have so many years left to bear children, B.J., and I need to find somebody soon.' It was shocking to hear her so… calculated. We're still married and she's talking about her next husband already."

"God, Beej," Hawkeye managed. "I'm so sorry."

But he wasn't. He wasn't.

"It's been a long time coming, to be honest with you, Hawk."

Hawkeye nodded again. "What about Erin?"

"Peg agreed to joint custody. I adore my daughter, she's a huge part of my life."

"I know."

"I think Peg's going to be very reasonable about that. Thank God."

"And does Erin know what's going on?"

"To an extent, yes. When I get back, I'm going to move out of the house. We'll explain a lot more to her then."

Hawkeye's mind was racing to keep up with this turn of events. He had so many questions but wasn't sure how to form them.

"That was the first thing," B.J. said, and his voice had turned soft. "But it's not the only thing."

Hawkeye gave his head a shake, as if to say, _There can't be anything more stunning than the news that B.J. Hunnicutt is getting divorced._

B.J. finally took a seat on the couch next to Hawkeye, and faced him with an almost solemn expression. "The second thing—and I better say it fast before I lose my nerve—is that I think I'm in love with you."

The supernova that hit Hawkeye's heart felt like a whopper. He literally jolted. "Beej… I…" He was pretty much speechless, which was OK because B.J. stopped him anyway.

"Please, let me just say what I want to say." B.J. rose and started his pacing again, all energy and nerves. "I lost more sleep trying to understand this than I did worrying about my marriage. You and I have known each other how long now? About seven years. But I guess over time, something shifted… in me. Suddenly I realized I couldn't stop thinking about you. You were on my mind _all_ the time… and not like, 'he's my best friend and I care for him and I hope he's doing OK,' but in a… very different way. A silly schoolgirl-crush way, like how beautifully blue your eyes are, and how sexy you look when you're in doctor mode, all compassionate and focused. I've never before been attracted to a man, Hawkeye. Not even remotely. It was confusing and scary… I had on idea what to make of it."

Hawkeye knew the feeling.

"I was raised in a religious family," B.J. continued, "and I still believe in God… I do. And the Bible, well, it has some interesting things to say about homosexuality."

"I know all about that," Hawkeye said, finally getting a word in edgewise. But then he shut his mouth again and listened, because this was one hell of an amazing monologue and he wanted to pay attention to every word.

"So I kept telling myself all kinds of things: it's wrong, it's nothing, it's silly, it's futile. And of course I was terrified of jeopardizing our friendship. You're the best friend I've ever had. I thought maybe the feelings would go away. And then I thought I could _force_ them away. I tried that but it didn't work." He stopped walking then, faced Hawkeye, and said with a ghost of a smile on his face. "And then you came to visit in July. You were so sad, it broke my heart. I swear I didn't plan it, but I kissed you. And you kissed back."

"But Beej…" Hawkeye stammered, tried again. "You didn't say a thing to me about that kiss. It was as if it never happened, the way neither one of us breathed a word about it."

B.J. tapped his chest, taking ownership. "I was still confused, Hawk… even more so. Still terrified of messing up. I had no idea _how_ to talk about it. But I will say this: I may not have mentioned it, but I never stopped thinking about it. That damn kiss was electric."

"It was. Beyond electric." Hawkeye shook his head back and forth in wonderment at all he had just heard. There were so many emotions running through him… shock, amazement, joy, relief, even a certain amount of incredulity. Finally he cracked, "You and I really need to talk more. Save us both a lot of anguish."

That got a nervous laugh out of B.J. and his shoulders seemed to relax. He tilted his head to one side, like a puppy. "Are you saying… am I just being hopeful, or are you saying we may have the start of something here?"

Hawkeye stood and moved to B.J., pulling him into his arms, hugging him tightly. "We have the start of something here," he whispered into B.J.'s ear. "Actually, at this point, we're probably in the middle."

He felt B.J.'s hands dig into his back, and he realized that his friend was crying. It was a release, after going through so much inner turmoil for so long, and Hawkeye just let him cry, rocking him slightly.

When they pulled back, Hawkeye wiped away a tear from B.J.'s cheek and said as their eyes locked, "I love you, B.J. Hunnicutt."

B.J.'s voice was thick with emotion, "I love you too, Hawk."

The kiss they shared this time was bolder, more passionate, more tantalizing… and lasted much, much longer.


	18. Chapter 18

_(Author's Note: As of Chapter 19, the rating on this fic will be changing to M.)_

* * *

Hawkeye knew there was a lot more to talk about, but for the moment, all they wanted to do was be together in their new reality. He turned the television on, flipped the channels until he found a station showing an old movie (_Guys and Dolls,_ which he loved) and went to the kitchen to make popcorn. B.J. tossed two pillows onto the living room floor and they stretched out with the popcorn bowl between them, taking some time to process the day's revelations.

Aphrodite came along at one point and rubbed her head against B.J.'s hand. Hawkeye said, "Looks like Miss Aphrodite is giving her seal of approval."

B.J. simultaneously petted the cat and leaned over to give Hawkeye a quick, buttery kiss. Hawkeye sighed. He was loving the whole kissing thing… the idea that they could do it whenever the mood struck (which was likely to be very often), a delicious new twist on an old relationship.

He rested his head on his arm and just watched B.J. watching the movie. Everything was new, and he could feel his whole life changing, in the best possible way. He was in love, and the man he was in love with loved him back. It was almost too much to absorb.

There were questions, of course… concerns and issues. But for now, Hawkeye didn't want to bring any of it up. He just wanted to stare at B.J. and feel happy. The happiest he'd been in a long time. Maybe ever.

B.J. picked up a piece of popcorn and placed it into Hawkeye's ear. They laughed. Hawkeye swiped it out of his ear and threw it in the direction of B.J., but it landed short, and Aphrodite picked it up and ran away with it. That made them laugh harder.

The movie ended and another one began. Hawkeye didn't know which one, because he was dozing on the floor by then, feeling utterly safe and contented. When he woke up, B.J. was snuggling with him, one finger lightly tracing his forearm. It was evidently B.J.'s turn to stare, and Hawkeye gazed at him through slitted eyes. "I could get used to this," he murmured.

"Yeah," B.J. breathed. "Me too."


	19. Chapter 19

They had dinner out at a pizza place, then stopped to visit Daniel at the home, arriving back at Hawkeye's late in the evening, both of them uncharacteristically quiet.

Feeling self-conscious, Hawkeye said, "I don't want to rush you into anything, Beej. I want you—both of us—to be comfortable." He could feel his face getting warm, and he felt absurdly clumsy as he spoke. Smooth-talking loverboy Hawkeye Pierce was nowhere in evidence. "If you want to sleep in your room—in the Swamp—tonight, that's absolutely fine. Just say so. But I would really love to take you to bed. To my bed."

"I would love that too." B.J. smiled and Hawkeye's heart melted. "Yes."

Hawkeye held out his hand and B.J. took it, and the moment was so tender it almost brought Hawkeye to tears. But that would be no way to start their first time together, so he drew a deep breath to tamp down the emotion.

He led B.J. up the stairs to his bedroom and closed the door behind them. He kept the lights off; the moon provided some illumination through the window, and it was enough. Standing before his best friend, he touched his thumb lightly to B.J.'s cheek, caressed softly. He watched as B.J.'s eyes fluttered shut. They both wanted to savor every sensation.

"I'm nervous," B.J. whispered.

"So am I."

Opening his eyes, B.J. asked, "You never… this is new to you too?"

Hawkeye nodded.

"It's just… well, you have a whole hell of a lot more sexual experience than I do, so I wasn't sure…"

"Just women," Hawkeye told him, moving closer, placing his body gently against B.J.'s. "We'll learn together."

Judging by B.J.'s physical reaction, an apparently involuntary thrust against Hawkeye's groin, B.J. was fine with that idea. Hawkeye moved his hands to B.J.'s ass and rubbed, pushing their bodies even closer together. "Mmmm," he mumbled, then kissed B.J. hungrily.

When they came up for air, Hawkeye grabbed his own shirt at the hem and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. He reached for B.J.'s T-shirt, tugged it up but not quite over his head… it got caught on B.J.'s nose and he said, "Ow," and then finally the two of them yanked it off together. They laughed, moved together again. Hawkeye's hands settled on B.J.'s chest, furry and broad, and he just stared as his own fingers raked through the hair. He loved how it felt, touching B.J. like this. He knew the man's body, had known his appearance and his touch for seven years, but now he was learning it anew.

They kissed again, and again. Hawkeye pants were growing uncomfortable, they were way too constricting, and he blindly reached down to undo the fly even as he kept on kissing B.J. He kicked them off, pulled his boxers off right after. He was practically whimpering.

"Hawkeye," B.J. breathed, grabbing at him, unwilling to pause the kissing for such mundane things as shedding clothes. Mundane, but necessary. Hawkeye acquiesced… kissing back, kissing hard, licking B.J.'s mouth and tasting his tongue.

And still somehow he managed to get B.J.'s pants undone as well, his hands working skillfully without a lot of direction from his brain.

Clothing finally off, Hawkeye steered B.J. backward, in the direction of the bed. B.J. sat on the edge, his erection bold and beautiful, and Hawkeye subconsciously licked his lips as he stood over him. He knelt down, ran his hands along B.J.'s legs, staring, _wanting_.

"Please, Hawk," B.J. moaned.

And even though Hawkeye had wanted desperately for this first time to be slow and drawn-out and filled with delicious anticipation, he gave in to B.J.'s pleas. He bent over and took B.J. into his mouth. He felt B.J.'s body tighten, could hear the tiny mewing sounds coming from the back of B.J.'s throat. Hawkeye's tongue pressed, his lips caressed, his teeth nibbled.

B.J.'s hips shook, and his hands found Hawkeye's head, fingers tangling in Hawk's hair.

His moans sounded so good.

It didn't take long… B.J. gave a faint cry as he came, quick spurts into Hawkeye's mouth. B.J. shuddered, stilled, and they both fell onto the bed, moving to hold one another, clinging. Sighing. Kissing.

After a time, B.J. lifted his lashes and looked into Hawk's eyes and gave a smile of pure bliss.

Hawkeye felt all the loneliness and darkness he'd ever known shattered by the brightness of that smile.

* * *

It was a weekend mostly spent naked and in bed. A weekend of learning… of exploring and experimenting.

During a break in the action on Sunday afternoon, as they lay there in each other's arms, and with Aphrodite circling over their legs in one of the rare occasions when she was allowed into the room, B.J. said, "I guess there's a lot we have to figure out."

Hawkeye quipped, "In my humble opinion, we're both earning A's so far, Beej."

B.J. laughed. "I don't mean _that_. I mean… logistics. Where we go from here." He trailed a finger up and down Hawkeye's chest, then around his navel. "If it's too soon to talk about it, I understand. But… my flight back home is tomorrow afternoon."

That gave Hawkeye a start, though he had certainly known it in the back of his mind. All of the non-stop, mind-blowing sex had temporarily pushed reality to the back-burner. But B.J. was going to be leaving the next day? Hawkeye felt a kind of panic rising in his chest. Already he felt like B.J. was a part of him… _half_ of him.

"Christ, Beej… you can't go. We've only just started this…"

B.J. propped himself on an elbow. "Logistics," he repeated. "You see what I mean."

Hawkeye nodded. "OK, well, we have several options. Long-distance relationship, seeing each other on weekends—"

"No," B.J. said quickly, and Hawkeye was inclined to agree. He'd get the bends if he didn't see B.J. every day. Every second of every day.

He gave an apologetic smile. "My dad's in the home…"

"I know, Hawk." B.J. leaned over and kissed him. "And my daughter is in Mill Valley."

Hawkeye shut his eyes. "Shit," he muttered. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

B.J. snuggled into the crook of his arm. "We need to take some time and think about this. We'll figure it out."

"I already miss you, and you're right here."

"We're going to figure it out," B.J. said firmly. "This—what we have—it's long-term. It's real. As far as I'm concerned, it's forever."

Hawkeye swallowed hard. He was amazed that B.J. had said it. "Yeah. As far as I'm concerned, too."

"Then don't worry, we will find a way to be together." B.J. went back to running his fingers over Hawkeye's chest… then stomach. His index finger dipped lower, stroking. Hawkeye's hips bucked. "We got this far, we can get the rest of the way. Right?"

Hawkeye had to try a couple of times to say "Right." His mouth was dry, and his attention had drifted away from the conversation and down toward the lower half of his body.

Curious, Aphrodite sauntered up next to Hawkeye's face, and Hawkeye shooed her away with a raspy, "Out, cat!" She jumped off the bed, scampered out of the room.

Laughing, B.J. kept on stroking lightly. Up and down… a feathery touch… maddening.

In one quick motion, Hawkeye rolled over, catching B.J. off guard and straddling him… trapping him. He put on a devilish grin, reached to the nightstand for the bottle of lotion. B.J. grinned back up at him. "Round 25?"

"I've lost count."

"Which one of us is winning?"

"It's a tie." He leaned over and kissed B.J. as he rubbed lotion in his palms. "Now turn around and hug your pillow, handsome. We're gonna have some fun."

Round 25 ended in a tie too.


	20. Chapter 20

It was just after 1:00 in the morning, and they were still both awake, still entangled. Both were acutely aware that B.J.'s flight back home was less than 12 hours away.

The room was enveloped in darkness. B.J. shifted, rolled onto his stomach, and Hawkeye draped himself halfway across B.J.'s back. The contact was essential. He wasn't even sure he could survive without B.J.'s touch. That was something he was going to have to find out once they finally left this bed.

He licked at the dip of B.J.'s lower back.

Lazily, B.J. said into his pillow, "When I left home on Friday, I knew I was coming out here to tell you everything. But I had no idea how you were going to react to it all. There were so many ways this could have gone. This…" he faltered, struggling for words, and Hawkeye waited. "The fact that we're here, together, in love… Hawk, I've never been happier. I mean that."

"Same here, Beej," Hawkeye murmured. "There were a lot of _if_s with you and me, but we finally got here."

"_If_s?"

"If you weren't married… if this, if that."

"Did you feel… something… in Korea?"

Hawkeye thought about that. "I think maybe I did, now that I look back. But there were roadblocks in my head, not letting me get there. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," B.J. said softly. "I do."

Hawkeye listened to and felt B.J. breathing. "I heard the 'click,'" he said, "when we met at Kimpo. I just didn't know what it was at the time."

But there was no reply to that because B.J. had apparently fallen asleep. Hawkeye smiled, kissed his back. "Rudyard Kipling was our unwitting matchmaker," he continued. "It started with a poem, as all great love stories do."

In the midst of his own semi-coherent rambling, just as he was reminding himself that he'd need to repeat all of this to B.J. sometime when he was conscious, Hawkeye fell asleep too.


	21. Chapter 21

Two days later, Hawkeye was sitting in his office at the practice, feeling heartsick. B.J. had gone back home and Hawkeye was lost without him. He was _aching_ for him.

Yes, they had to figure out their logistics very soon.

In between appointments, he sat there at his desk and absently drummed his fingers on the stack of medical charts. He could barely concentrate on work. He wasn't doing anyone any good if he couldn't put his heart into treating patients.

There was a rap at the door and Jim entered, holding out a chart. "Hawkeye? You left Mrs. Corbett's chart in exam room 2. Here you go."

Case in point: leaving charts lying around. _Get your head in the game, Pierce._

"Thanks, Jim."

"Everything OK?" his partner asked, clearly having noticed Hawkeye's funk.

"Just preoccupied, that's all. I'm OK." _Except for the little matter of my soul mate being 3000 miles away._

"Well if you need time off again, by all means take it. I am more than happy to fill in for you anytime, Hawkeye. I'm just so happy to be working here—it's the perfect fit for me."

"For me too, Jim. You've been great, which I probably don't tell you often enough. The patients adore you." He smirked. "And that's no mean feat. These people were loyal as hell to my father, and it took them forever to accept _me_."

As Jim laughed, Hawkeye replayed what he'd just said in his head, and the wheels started to turn.

* * *

"Hey, Dad. How are you doing tonight?"

"I'm all right, son."

As Hawkeye studied his dad's face, he saw recognition and clarity. Good signs. He set up the checkers board on the tray table and sat opposite Daniel, deciding to just launch into it… no point in stalling. "Hey, have you ever been to California?"

His dad barked a laugh. "If I have, do you really think I'd remember?"

Typical Daniel Pierce: finding humor even in his own neurological disorder.

"Well, it's very pretty there. Lots of sunshine, nowhere near as cold as it gets here."

"Are you telling me this for a reason?"

Hawkeye jumped a checker over one of Daniel's pieces. "Yeah, Dad, I am." He leaned forward, nervous. "Not too long ago, we sat in this room at this very same checkers board, and you told me you wanted me to be happy."

"I do. Want you to be happy."

"I know, Dad. And the thing is, I've found someone who makes me _very _happy."

"You did?" Daniel was beaming. "That's wonderful, son!"

"I hope you still think so once I've told you that it's… it's B.J."

A long beat. Daniel's smile faded a bit. "Your friend B.J., your buddy from Korea?"

Hawkeye nodded, rendered mute.

Daniel took a long time to process that information. Hawkeye's knee began to jiggle up and down, coming dangerously close to knocking the checkers board off the table.

His dad was saying absolutely nothing, and Hawkeye couldn't help himself… he _had_ to fill the silence. "He and I have started a relationship—this isn't a one-sided thing, if that's what you're thinking. We've decided we want to be together."

Finally Daniel lifted his eyes. "Isn't he married?"

"He's getting a divorce."

"Because of you?"

"No, not because of me. He and his wife drifted apart. It happens."

Another very long pause. Hawkeye was well aware this was shocking news, so he summoned all the patience he had, waiting for his father to absorb and understand. Meanwhile, the checkers game had come to a halt.

"If you settle down with a man, you won't have children." Daniel's voice was surprisingly calm and gentle.

"He has a daughter, Erin. I adore her. You actually met her once, when they were out here visiting."

"I think I remember that. She was cute."

"As a button." Hawkeye spread his hands. "Anyway, I'll help to raise her. I don't know if I'll be any good at it—parenting. But I'll do the best I can."

Daniel was nodding but still looked lost in thought. Hawkeye, figuring that at least the old man wasn't angry or appalled, carried on with the next part of the story: "B.J. lives out near San Francisco, which you might remember. And I want us—you and me—to move out there. We can find you a nursing home out there just as nice as this one is. Maybe nicer."

Silence.

"And I would still visit you nearly every day, that wouldn't change."

Silence.

"I love him, Dad. And he needs to be out there, because that's where his daughter is, and I can't live without him in my life. I can't." He got choked up as he said that last part, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed.

Then finally Daniel did speak, and his question was a good one. "What about the practice?"

Hawkeye nodded. The poor man was getting shocking blow after shocking blow, and here came number three. "I think Jim will be happy to take it over for me… for us. He is an excellent doctor, and he loves family practice, and the patients love him. I haven't talked to him about it yet, but I'm pretty sure he'd be willing to fly solo."

And now they were back to the silence. Hawkeye put a hand on his dad's knee, waited for eye contact. "Please just think it over, OK? I know I have given you a whole shitload of news just now, one thing after another, and it's a lot to take in. So as long as you agree to think about it, then you don't have to say anything else right now."

His dad covered the hand on his knee with his own. "Hawkeye, if B.J. makes you happy, and you're sure about this—which you seem to be—then I don't have to think it over. You're my son. You and I, we've been through it all together, haven't we?"

Hawkeye nodded, tears threatening.

"Since we lost your mom up to right now, we've always leaned on each other, stood by each other, took on the world together. My memory may not be too good, but I know that much. Of course I'll go to California. My place is with my son."

Hawkeye did topple the checkers board then, as he rushed into his dad's arms.

"I'll miss the lobster, though," Daniel mumbled into Hawkeye's chest, and Hawkeye felt a sharp pang of sorrow in the midst of his elation.


	22. Chapter 22

It was overwhelming, all the things Hawkeye had to do. Travel out to Mill Valley every Friday to spend the weekend house-hunting with B.J. and, incidentally, look at nursing homes too. (And, since he was only seeing B.J. on the weekends, have a lot of sex—enough to get him through the Monday-through-Thursday dry spells.) Get his Crabapple Cove house up for sale (he would miss the Swamp, but maybe he and Beej could re-create it in their new home). Start transferring the practice over to Jim Dixon. Start packing up both his house and his office. Reassure Aphrodite that she would be making the trip across the country with him. Start thinking about a job out west…

B.J. wanted him to consider a position at the hospital where he worked, San Francisco General. It would only be a matter of time before there was a surgical opening, he reasoned. Hawkeye was a little hesitant. He hadn't operated since he left Korea, and he wasn't sure he still had the magic touch. B.J. smiled wickedly and said he most certainly did, eyebrows bouncing a la Groucho Marx.

There would be time later to figure out his career. The first order of business was finding a house, and when they stepped into the three-bedroom rancher on Dorset Lane in Mill Valley, they knew instantly that it was The One. It just _felt _like home, Hawkeye marveled, even more so than his cozy Cape Cod back in Maine. He and B.J. trailed the Realtor as she went through her sales pitch, but the house was pretty much selling itself.

"It's perfect," Hawkeye whispered to B.J. while the Realtor rambled on. B.J. squeezed his hand.

The Realtor was saying, "Built in 1953—"

And they exchanged a look. _That's a sign,_ Hawkeye thought; the year the war ended. B.J. grinned at him, a shared understanding.

Meanwhile, the Realtor seemingly never stopped for breath, and now she was saying, "And do either of you play golf? The Mill Valley Golf Course is only two miles away—"

"We'll take it!" they said in unison.

And that, finally, got the Realtor to shut up. She whirled on her heels to look at them, commission dollar signs in her eyes. "Wonderful! I'll draw up the papers tonight."


	23. Chapter 23

Most of October was a complete blur. In Crabapple Cove, as autumn brought crisp air and dwindling daylight, Hawkeye got his house sold and packed up, and arranged for Daniel to move out of his nursing home.

Hawkeye's last day at the practice was emotional. Even Sheila got verklempt, which he never would have imagined was possible. In a way, he felt like he was letting his dad down, handing over the old man's practice to somebody else—and not even a relative—but Daniel had made peace with the idea, and it was time Hawkeye did too. Besides, Jim was going to do them proud, Hawkeye was sure of it.

The drive across the country, with his remaining worldly possessions packed into the car along with his father and his feline, was… well, interesting. Daniel seemed to do more caterwauling than Aphrodite did, and that was really saying something, since the cat was awfully vocal in her displeasure. Hawkeye tried any number of car games to keep Daniel's mind off the miles, and sometimes it worked like a charm while other times he simply refused to play along.

There was not much of anything Hawkeye could do about Aphrodite. Car games were not going to work on her.

The fact that he made it out to Mill Valley without committing homicide or cat-icide was a testament to Hawkeye's euphoric mood. He was heading toward B.J., and that was all that mattered.

Once they arrived in the picture-perfect town, Hawkeye dropped his dad off at the nursing home that he and B.J. had chosen and vetted after a painstaking search. It was a good place, with more staff on the day shift than the Crabapple Cove home had employed. Hawkeye felt comfortable leaving his dad in their care. Weary, he got Daniel settled into his new room and helped him unpack a little before kissing him goodbye.

"I'll stop by tomorrow, Dad, promise."

"OK, son." Daniel looked dejected, which could have been exhaustion from the long trip or the uncertainty of being in a new place. Or both. He would adjust, Hawkeye was sure.

When he finally parked his car in the driveway of his new home on Dorset Lane, Hawkeye unfolded himself from the driver's seat and told Aphrodite, "This is it, baby! We made it." He grabbed her carrier from the backseat, the only cargo that he felt like unloading at the moment.

Before he even got to the front door, it opened wide and B.J. rushed out, grabbing Hawkeye in an awkward hug, with the cat carrier in the way. "Welcome to your new home, Hawk!" he said with one of his wide, beatific smiles.

B.J. slung an arm around Hawkeye's shoulders and together they walked into their adorable little rancher. "Aren't you going to carry me over the threshold?" Hawkeye asked with a smirk.

"I'd put out my back if I tried that, and I want to keep myself injury-free so I can enjoy other, ahem, physical activities."

"Smart man," Hawkeye conceded. Waggle bounded up to him then and sniffed at the cat carrier. "Uh. Does this guy get along with cats?"

B.J. gave a dubious look. "I wouldn't trust it right away."

So Hawkeye got Aphrodite settled into one of the extra bedrooms with her food dishes, toys and litter box, then started to pull off his sweaty clothes, announcing to B.J. that he was going to shower. He stood under the warm spray with his eyes closed and let the stress of the long trip and the cross-country move wash away. This right here—this was the dream. He was in his new home… the home he would be sharing with B.J., a dog, a cat, and sometimes Erin. He couldn't stop smiling.

When he finished showering and pulled the curtain back, B.J. was standing right there in the bathroom, stark naked, with a large fluffy towel in his hands. He gestured to Hawkeye to step out. "Let me dry you off, Hawk. Come here."

Hawkeye had to laugh. "Have I mentioned that I love my new house? Apparently it comes with a naked B.J. Hunnicutt."

"It sure does. Whenever possible, at least."

As B.J. dried him off gently, Hawkeye began to get hard. The towel in B.J.'s hands traveled over his body lovingly… over his back and arms and chest and ass. Lingered between his legs. "I hope this is going where I think it's going." Hawkeye took hold of B.J.'s chin so he could help himself to a quick kiss.

Finally, B.J. tossed aside the towel. "Do you even have to ask? Let's go christen our bedroom, Hawk."

The king-sized bed looked soft and luxurious. B.J. had bought many pillows for it. The man loved his pillows. He'd planned their first night thoughtfully… a few candles lit on the bureau to add to the romantic mood, lotion on the nightstand, bedsheets turned down. Hawkeye watched as B.J. crawled onto the bed and gazed up at him, his expression filled with love and longing. Hawkeye lay down next to him, wrapping legs around legs, snuggling and kissing.

He loved this… everything about this. All those years of searching, of wondering what the hell he wanted, and it turned out what he was looking for was his own best friend.

After a while, B.J. turned onto his stomach, the invitation clear. Hawkeye warmed the lotion in his hands. His fingers stretched and prepared; he had gotten very good at this. B.J. pressed back against Hawk's touch and let out contented sighs. Hawkeye whispered, "I love you." B.J. turned his head for a long, lazy, mouth-watering kiss.

They took their time. No rush… there would never be any rush… they had hours, they had years. But after Hawkeye was finally inside his lover, bringing their bodies together as one, finding their familiar rhythm… he leaned over and put his mouth to B.J.'s ear. "It feels good," he breathed, "to be home."

Afterward, Hawkeye spooned B.J. as he fell deeply and happily unconscious. He may have been in a new bed, a new house, even a new state, but he got the best night's sleep of his adult life.


	24. Chapter 24

_November 27, 1958_

As he stood at the oven and peered inside at the turkey, Hawkeye had no idea why he and B.J. had decided to cook Thanksgiving dinner. There was no guarantee anything was going to turn out edible. Although actually, B.J.'s sweet potato casserole did look positively delicious.

He crossed his fingers and hoped for the best.

Daniel called out from the living room, "Is there anything I can help with, Hawkeye?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dad. You're our guest and your only job is to sit there and relax—"

"I sit around all the time."

"—or play a game with Erin."

She squealed as she came running into the kitchen, clutching the stuffed doggy that Hawkeye had given her for Christmas two years before. She still had it, still loved it, still occasionally carried it around. "Gramps and I can go for a walk outside, right?"

Hawkeye looked at the clock. "Let's wait until after we eat—then we'll all go. The food should be ready soon, if your daddy and I have timed everything right. Go find something on TV to occupy you guys for a little while longer."

She scampered off just as the front door opened. B.J. was back from an emergency run to the market for rolls. Hawkeye had told him there was plenty of food to eat without them, but B.J. said people needed rolls for soaking up the gravy.

He held the bag up, showing Hawkeye, "Mission accomplished."

"I think the turkey's just about ready, but I'll let you be the judge." He started to transfer dishes of food to the large dining room table that Erin had obediently set for them.

Aphrodite, lured by the smell of hot food, circled around Hawkeye's feet. Waggle wasn't keen on the idea that the cat might get food droppings that were perhaps meant for him, so he stood on his hind legs to catch Hawkeye's attention. Hawk shooed both pets away.

Daniel and Erin didn't even need to be called; they came to the table, following their noses.

B.J. declared the turkey done, and there was a mad scramble to get water poured into glasses and all the side dishes placed on the table. A few of them didn't even fit. "We made too much," Hawkeye observed, feeling a little foolish.

"So we'll have leftovers, big deal," B.J. said with a shrug. "We can give some leftovers to the soup kitchen, too. Better to have too much than not enough!"

Hawkeye thought that philosophy applied in many ways, on this Thanksgiving.

When they were all seated at the table, with both Aphrodite and Waggle sitting quietly at Erin's feet, B.J. said, "I was wondering, Hawk, if you could say a few words first, before we eat."

Caught off guard by the request but never one to turn down an opportunity to speechify, Hawkeye nodded. "Of course, Beej." He took a moment to look around the table at his loved ones.

His dad had excellent care at the new nursing home, though of course his dementia was slowly progressing. There was no stopping that. But today it seemed to be taking the holiday off. Daniel looked clear of mind and happy of heart. He missed the Cove, naturally; his demeanor was not always as tranquil as it was today. But he was adjusting, and he enjoyed spending time with Erin, referring to her (accurately, as far as Hawkeye was concerned, biology be damned) as his granddaughter.

Erin was a healthy little girl and had adjusted to her parents' breakup better than they had predicted. It no doubt helped that Hawkeye and B.J. talked to her about every decision they made that affected her, encouraged her to come to them with any problems, and told her often that they loved her.

B.J. Hunnicutt, the man Hawkeye intended to spend the rest of his life with, was gorgeous and funny and generous, and still the best friend he'd ever had. Best lover, too.

As for Hawkeye himself, he was going to be taking a surgical position at San Francisco General in less than a week, working the same shift as B.J.

Life was good.

"We give thanks on this holiday," Hawkeye said now, his voice soft. "Whether we give it to God or to each other, the idea is to be thankful. And I couldn't be any more thankful than I am right now, to have this incredible family. I had some dark days in my recent past—and in my distant past too—but all of that's behind me now. It was a bit of a journey to get to this point, to this place, but here I am. And thanks to all of you, I am a very happy man. To quote a great writer, 'This is a brief life, but in its brevity it offers us some splendid moments, some meaningful adventures.'"

It took a couple of seconds, but recognition dawned on B.J.'s face, and he smiled broadly. "Rudyard Kipling," he said.

Hawkeye leaned over, grabbed the back of B.J.'s neck, and brought him in for a kiss.

To Erin's exuberant cry of "Let's eat!," the four of them dug into their Thanksgiving feast.

THE END


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